Back to Haunt You
by Corinth
Summary: A man from Casey's past shows up, angry at her for leaving him, and John struggles to help her through and control his jealousy at the relationship the two used to have. Mild spoilers for Influence and Night. JC, EO. Please R and R! COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Casey glanced out her window at the falling snow. It was the first of the year, and she could not be happier. About the weather, anyway. The job was as stressful as ever, if not more so. There had been a surge of crimes over the past week, for whatever reason, and none of the detectives had rested in days. They were all exhausted and tense, and Casey was no better. She had been working nonstop to prepare a huge case and, with one more look at the snow, she set off for the precinct to pick up a few papers she needed from Cragen.

The station house was a wreck. The cases had finally stopped pouring in but all the detectives were too tired to organize the massive amounts of papers that had accumulated over the past days. All four of them were sitting at their desks in various states of alertness, surrounded by the clutter. Elliot, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, was the first to notice Casey when she walked in, eyebrows raised at the mess.

"Hey," Elliot said, causing everyone else to turn and acknowledge her presence.

"Hey," she returned with a tired smile. "Didn't I see a picture of this room in the dictionary under 'immaculate'?"

"You're lucky it's not worse," Fin said idly, folding a paper airplane and tossing it across the room.

"No need to _make_ it worse," Cragen shot at Fin, coming out of his office and handing Casey a file. "How's this one looking?"

Casey shrugged. "We've got him. The jury won't buy the excuse that he didn't realize it was his ex-wife he was raping. Why they're even bothering to try and get him off on breaking a restraining order when he's already nailed for rape, I have no idea."

As soon as everyone was relatively occupied again, Casey went over to John. "Hi," she said softly after making sure Fin was immersed in his computer.

"Hi." He discreetly rubbed the small of her back. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm ok. I miss you."

"If I had a nickel…."

Casey smirked at him. "You'd have a dime."

"Better than nothing." He took her hand and squeezed it. "Good luck in court."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, shooting him a smile. "Don't need it." She sighed, looking at her watch. "I guess I'll head over there. I might as well go over my questions and everything."

"See you tonight?"

"I can't wait." She winked at him ridiculously, and he rolled his eyes, but a smile played across his lips and he watched her cross to the door.

Just as she reached it, a man barreled through, looking out of control. All four detectives rose warily, but the man paused the second he saw Casey. Her eyes widened.

"You bitch," he said harshly, and before anyone knew what was happening, he punched Casey in the stomach.

All the detectives rushed over to restrain him, but not before he landed three more blows, two to her ribs and one to the side of her head, and Casey crumpled to the floor, blood starting to ooze from her temple. John ran to her side, his heart beating wildly. Images of her bruised and bloody face after being attacked that night in her office flooded his brain, and fear gripped him to the point that he could barely breathe.

"Casey!" he shouted, rolling her onto her back. Her eyes were open but unfocused, and she was murmuring soundlessly. John ignored the sounds of Elliot and Fin slamming the man against a wall and cuffing him, and he was only dimly aware of Olivia dropping to her knees beside him and pressing a towel to Casey's head.

"This is Detective Olivia Benson, I need a bus as the one-six right away…."

John twined his fingers in Casey's hair, trying to get her to look at him. "Case, I'm here. Look at me. Please. Please, Casey."

"I'm trying," she said so softly it was almost inaudible, but then she closed her eyes, her forehead furrowed in pain.

"Casey, who was that?" Olivia asked desperately, trying to keep her conscious.

Casey's eyes shot open, and everyone present could read the shock and pain. "Charlie," she whispered incredulously.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Guys, I've been trying to update for a week! It was so frustrating! I kept getting an error message. Anyway, I'm so sorry it's taken such a long time to get the next chapter. On the plus side, I got the chance to write a ton of chapters, so I will update really often. Please R and R!

* * *

John rode in the ambulance along with Casey. He held her hand the whole way, its cold fragility the only thing holding him to reality. It had been a surreal morning.

He knew she would be alright. She had a concussion and one or two cracked ribs, but her life was not in danger. Even with that knowledge, however, John was still so worried he could not think about anything else. He was operating on autopilot, doing what came naturally, and as such it did not even cross his mind that the nature of his and Casey's relationship was finally out. No one at the precinct misinterpreted his reaction as mere friendly concern. It was more, much more.

When Casey said the man was Charlie, John's heart dropped into his stomach. He experienced more reactions at once than ever before. First and foremost, he was sorry for Casey. She told him about Charlie and his schizophrenia a few weeks into their relationship, and John, as someone very adept at hiding his own emotions, was not fooled by Casey's contrived nonchalance. He knew it broke her heart to break off the engagement and that she felt incredibly guilty to have left, even though she really had no other option. For Charlie to show up, call her a bitch, and drag everything back up was inexcusable. It was no wonder Casey had been so shocked to see him.

The selfish part of John resented Charlie long before he appeared at the precinct. Casey had not told him much about their relationship, but John knew that she was anything but flighty. She had been deeply in love with Charlie; there was no other way she would have been engaged to him. It was not just a fling. And John did not like to admit that Casey could love anyone but him. It had taken him so long to find her…and she was perfect for him. He thought he was perfect for her, but then he wondered why she had been engaged. Charlie must have been more perfect for her.

"John?" she whispered, breaking him out of his reverie.

"I'm right here, Casey," he said immediately, stroking the uninjured side of her face with his free hand.

"I…have to be in court."

He almost laughed. To be worrying about the case on the way to the hospital was so like her: passionate to the point of sometimes being illogical. "I think they'll understand."

She shook her head but stopped, grimacing at the pain. "Patrick Rogers needs to be convicted before he can hurt his ex-wife again. I'm letting her down…he has to go to prison…it's my job to put him there…I have to go…now!"

John continued caressing her skin, alarmed at her behavior. She was practically hysterical; he could hear her breathing becoming erratic. "Case, you have to calm down."

She closed her eyes, causing a few tears to spill onto her cheeks. "Oh my God…I can't believe...Charlie…_Charlie_."

John moved aside reluctantly when they got to the hospital so the paramedics could transport her inside. She was more than slightly delirious as a result of the pain medicine she had been given for the cracked ribs, and as she passed John, she looked at him desperately. "Don't punish him for last time, ok?"

John stared at her. "Last time what? Casey, he's hurt you before?"

"Promise me."

Before he had the chance to question her any more, the paramedics had wheeled the gurney into the hospital and down a long hallway. John followed as far as he could, stopping at the doors that read "Authorized Personnel Only". He stood there, frozen with new fear, until he could no longer feel his body.


	3. Chapter 3

"Stabler."

"Elliot, it's John."

Elliot sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes. He nodded at Olivia's questioning look. "How is she?"

"You collar the guy?"

"Of course."

"Elliot, I…."

Elliot looked at Olivia in alarm. It was completely unlike John to be emotional, to lose control, and it was obvious that he was not handling Casey's assault well. Olivia pulled her chair next to Elliot's and leaned in to listen as well. "John, what is it?"

The line was silent for a few seconds before he answered. "Casey was…out of it…but she said something about only getting him for _this_ attack."

Elliot's heart sunk. He felt Olivia's pulse quicken, and he realized he had grabbed her hand. "Are you telling me this because I'm your friend or because of my job description?" he asked softly, closing his eyes.

"Both," came John's voice a second later.

Olivia let out a breath. "Oh God," she whispered, and Elliot squeezed her hand tighter.

"Do you have any reason to think that other than…well, do you have a reason?"

The sound of John's pacing could be heard even through the phone. "The first time we made love, she sort of…freaked out."

"Freaked out how?"

"Like you'd expect, Elliot!" he snapped, and there was a loud crash and the sound of something rolling across a tiled floor. "God, why didn't I see it? What the hell is the use of me being a detective if my head is so far up my ass that I don't realize the woman I love was raped?"

Elliot took a deep breath, anticipating the reaction his next statement was going to cause, but knowing he had to say it before John got too carried away. "Even if it was that kind of attack…the statute's up, John. We can't do anything about it."

"I _know_ that, damn it," he said coldly. "But I have to do something."

Elliot looked up when he heard footsteps. Cragen and Fin were approaching, looking worried. At that moment, John said, "The doctor's coming," and he hung up.

Flipping his phone shut, Elliot looked at the two men. "He thinks the guy might have raped Casey."

"Shit," Fin muttered, shaking his head and turning to stare out the window.

"When?" Cragen asked at the same time, going pale.

Elliot shook his head. "Too long ago."

The captain sighed deeply, placing his hands on Elliot's desk and leaning forward. "Wait to question him until John gets here."

Olivia glanced at him in surprise. "You know he's not going to be able to be professional about it."

"Yeah, I know." He straightened up, his expression hard and just daring anyone to argue with him. "You two go in with him. But to be honest, at the moment being professional is about the last thing on my mind." He turned sharply and went into his office, slamming the door.

Fin slumped down in his chair, staring at John's vacated desk.

Olivia rose and pulled Elliot up with her. They went into the hallway outside the bullpen where he wrapped her in his arms. "It sure is different when it's one of us, isn't it?" he murmured into her hair.

"Poor Casey," Olivia whispered, and Elliot heard a catch in her voice.

"I know," he agreed, but in his head, imagining what the detective must be feeling, faced with the most heartbreaking possibility imaginable, he thought, _Poor John_. He hugged Olivia closer.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Just to warn you, starting with chapter 7, I will be upping the rating to M. So don't look for it in T anymore after that! We're going to have some EO and JC action!

* * *

John was directly in front of the doctor before the door had even closed completely. "How is she?" he demanded.

"She'll be fine," the doctor replied kindly. "We stitched up the laceration on her head. She has a pretty big contusion on her abdomen, but there was no internal bleeding. The biggest problem is the ribs; we can't do anything for them but give her painkillers and keep her still. Breathing hurts her more than anything else at this point."

"Can I see her?"

"Go ahead. Room 109."

"Thank you." He hurried past the doctor and through the doors, not stopping until he reached her room. He took a deep breath, stealing himself up to be strong, and he went in.

Casey was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her breathing was shallow and labored, and pain seemed permanently etched on her face. "Casey," John said gently, not wanting to startle her.

She jumped anyway, putting a hand to her ribs and wincing. "John," she said weakly, giving him a smile that did not mask her pain. Not even close. "How are you?"

He looked at her incredulously, pulling a chair up right next to her so he was above her and she did not have to strain to see him. "How am _I_? How many drugs are you on?"

"More than you've ever had at once, even in your hippie days, Munch."

"I resent that."

"So what's new." She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "I can't laugh," she said. "It hurts."

John nodded seriously, but his eyes were sparkling. "Fine. I'll be somber."

Casey chuckled. "Stop it."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, John taking her hand in his. His eyes roved over her, taking in the pained rise and fall of her chest and the five stitches marring her pale skin. "Can I see the other stuff?"

She shook her head. "You don't need to see it, John," she said softly.

"Yes I do. I have to know how angry I should be."

She sighed, and carefully pulled her hospital gown aside to reveal a huge purple, blue, and red bruise on her stomach. John could see the shape of a fist in the splotches. Her chest was wrapped up tightly, presumably to stabilize her ribcage. His hands clenched.

"Casey…do you know what you said to me as they were bringing you in?"

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I've got to learn when to shut up," she tried to joke, but John held up his hand to stop her.

"I'm not going to let you blow this off like it's nothing."

"Please…I don't want to talk about this now."

"I told Elliot."

"And?"

He ran his thumb across her lips, unable to speak. "The statute expired."

"So you're just assuming you know what I meant?"

"Am I wrong?"

She stared at him for a moment before finally avoiding his gaze. "No."

Even though John had been pretty much certain he was right about the 'attack', hearing her confirm it was too difficult. "Casey," he whispered, tears coming to his eyes.

"Let it go. It was…it's hard to explain."

"Oh, I'm sure," he snapped sarcastically. "I'm sure there were mitigating circumstances that make being raped by your fiancé completely acceptable."

"Don't be an ass, John." She finally met his eyes again.

"I can't just ignore this!"

"You should. There's nothing you can do about it."

"I can't believe you of all people didn't report this! What's the matter with you?" He took a deep breath, looking at her. She did not flinch at his outburst. She did not even look mad.

"Kiss me, John," she said.

He stared at her. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because I love you."

The corner of his mouth twitched. Leave it to Casey to distract him from his tirade. He leaned down and brought his lips to hers. "This isn't over," he murmured.

"I'm sure," she replied briefly, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

Olivia took a deep breath as she entered the hospital and was directed to Casey's room. It was always hard seeing a friend hurt on the job. She shuddered just thinking about all the times she had visited Elliot, always afraid that next time he would not make it through…cursing the knowledge that there would be, without question, a next time.

Cragen had decided to replace John at the hospital with Olivia, sending Elliot in to question Charlie along with John. He thought three interrogators would be excessive, and Olivia would have little luck controlling John, if it came down to that and someone needed to. Elliot could more effectively restrain him. Apart from that, Olivia and Casey were closer than Elliot and Casey.

Olivia knocked on the door and went in. The room was silent. Casey was asleep, and John was leaning forward, his chin on his fist, staring at her face. He did not turn until Olivia said, "John."

He rose, facing her. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course."

He looked back at Casey, sighing. "I never wanted to see her like this again."

Olivia touched his arm. "I know. But she'll be ok."

"Yeah." He bent and touched his lips to Casey's forehead. "I'll be back later," he said softly. He left, and Olivia took his seat.

Casey woke up at the sound of the door closing. She looked around wildly before her eyes landed on Olivia. She smiled. "Hey."

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Antsy. I want to get out of here."

"They postponed the trial. Rogers is locked up without the possibility of bail until you're ready to proceed."

"Good." Casey looked imploringly in Olivia's eyes. "I need to talk to him."

"Charlie?"

Casey nodded. "I need to…apologize."

"He needs to apologize to _you_."

"I left him. It's my fault that he turned out like this."

"You didn't prevent him from taking his meds, Case." Olivia shook her head. "You can't keep feeling guilty about this."

"Can't is a four letter word," Casey said with a weak smile.

"Yeah, like you give a FUCK about four letter words."

They lapsed into silence, both staring at the wall, lost in thought. Olivia hated the smell of hospitals. It was strange…even though she knew she was in one of the cleanest, most sterile places in the world, she always felt dirty after leaving a hospital. Tainted. Marked.

"I can't believe Don is letting John question him," Casey finally said, looking back at Olivia.

She smiled. "Yeah, it probably isn't a wise move…but John wouldn't have it any other way. He loves you."

Casey sighed, likewise smiling. It was the first time she had heard that John loved her from anyone but him. She liked it. "Yeah."

"Cap's going to think he's running a dating service, not a stationhouse."

"What do you want to bet he makes a sign about PDA rules?"

"Hey, Elliot and I are great at acting professional. He wouldn't know about us if we hadn't told him. You two, on the other hand…."

"Shut up."

They stopped talking again, and Casey seemed to be drifting off to sleep. When Olivia thought she had, Casey surprised her by saying, "I really do need to talk to him, Liv."

The detective sighed. She did not think it was a great plan…she could only imagine how painful it would be for Casey. She also knew, however, that if she was in Casey's position, she would want the same thing. "Ok. I'll do what I can."


	6. Chapter 6

John was already pissed as hell by the time he got back to the precinct. He had been holding back his anger all day, not willing to lose his composure in front of Casey. She had been through enough without him losing all pretense of control in front of her.

What killed him the most was how little anger she seemed to have about the whole thing. The son of a bitch did not deserve her compassion, if anyone's. John certainly did not intend to show him any.

He slammed the door to the car Olivia had driven to the hospital and stormed into the stationhouse. "Where is he?" he demanded of Fin immediately upon entering, tossing his coat onto his desk.

"Interrogation four. John…take it easy, man. Cap _will_ pull you off this case."

John ran his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Yeah, I know." He took a deep breath, willing himself to be calm, and strode off to the room.

Cragen was standing in front of the two-way. "You ready, John?"

"Hell yes."

"John…."

"I got it," he interrupted, ignoring the warning tone in his captain's voice. He pulled the door open and went in, going right up to Charlie and leaning over him. Elliot took a step forward from where he had been standing against a wall. "Who the hell are you?"

Charlie looked at him coldly. "Charlie Parker."

"Enough small talk." He slammed his fist against the table, causing a loud bang that made Charlie jump. "What the hell do you want with her?"

Charlie shook his head. "I'm not saying a word without Casey here."

"DON'T call her Casey."

The seated man glared at him defiantly. "And just what the fuck do you want me to call her?!"

John glanced back at Elliot who was wearing a similar expression of confusion. John sighed. He did not know an answer to the question. All he knew was that he could not bear to hear the man who had raped Casey refer to her the same way the people who cared for her did.

To break the silence that had fallen, Elliot said, "Well, if you wanted to talk to Casey, maybe you shouldn't have assaulted her and sent her to the hospital, you stupid bastard."

"She'll live," he replied nonchalantly.

"But you won't, if I have anything to do with it," John shot at him. He knew he was exaggerating hugely. There was no way anyone would ever get the death penalty for assault.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "I went to law school, you idiotic old man. Don't try to scare me. You're too senile for this job. You should have quit before you became eligible for Social Security…but I guess that ship has sailed."

John ignored the barbs about his age. "You seem lucid enough. I take it you are on your meds, like Casey suggested to you?"

He did not answer, and Elliot smiled. "Finally wised up, huh?"

Despite continued jibes and threats, neither man could get Charlie to talk again. They left him in the room after ten more minutes of attempting to anger him into responding without success.

"I guess we need to get Casey in there with you," Cragen said after Elliot closed the door on Charlie.

"Why?" John asked sharply. "We all witnessed the assault. The statute's up on the…the…on…." He could not bring himself to say it aloud, admitting that it really happened. Elliot and Cragen looked at him with sympathy.

"If he has a violent streak…he might have other victims apart from Casey. And those statute's might not be up," Cragen said.

John shook his head. "I don't think so. He had a vendetta against Casey because she left him. I don't know when or why he…raped her…. Can I just talk to her about it first?"

"You think she'll tell you about it?"

Looking in at Charlie, John sighed. "I hope so."

Elliot clapped him on the shoulder. "I'd say give it a shot. He hasn't lawyered up yet. He doesn't seem to care what happens to him. Whatever's going on, it's all about Casey."

"That bastard," John muttered, turning on his heel and leading Elliot and Cragen back into the bullpen.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: EO lemon! I promise I'll give you a JC one too, but she's too hurt right now. Hang in there! Thanks for reading!

* * *

Elliot drove John back to the hospital and picked up Olivia. They did not even bother trying to convince John to go back to his place and get proper sleep, because they knew he would not agree. Neither would Elliot, if he had been in the same position. There was no way he would leave Olivia, and suggesting a course of action he would never take did not seem right. He tried to be encouraging to John, and then he drove Olivia back to her apartment.

She grabbed a beer for him and made herself a cup of tea before joining him on her couch. "Long day," she said softly, sipping from her mug.

"I know." He ran his fingers up and down her smooth ankle. "I don't know what I'd do if someone attacked you."

"The same thing John's doing, but with more rage and less sarcasm."

Elliot had to smile. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right."

He sighed, looking into her brown eyes. He was, obviously, happy that she had become a cop because he would not have met her otherwise, but there were times he almost went crazy with worry about her. "We just want to protect you. All of us, not just John and me who also happen to be in love with you."

She smirked. "By 'you' you mean us womenfolk?"

He laughed at her wording. "Yes. And I don't mean it in a misogynistic way."

"Well, ordinarily I'd kick your ass for even suggesting it, but I won't since I like your shirt."

"Thanks." He took her free hand in his and stroked her fingers with his thumb. "It's just…you have to admit it's so much more dangerous for you guys. How many times have you become the target of one of our perps? You know Richard White wanted to rape you. Who would ever go after Fin, John, or me like that?"

Olivia looked thoughtful. "A really, really strong gay man."

"Right," he responded, laughing. "The point is…." He set his bottle on a small table, moving closer to Olivia and taking her face between his hands. "Be careful, Liv."

"I will be," she whispered back. Likewise setting her drink aside, she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his.

Elliot closed his eyes, sighing her name into her mouth. He rubbed her breasts through her shirt. "I love you so much."

"Back at you, Stabler."

His tongue danced with hers as his hands went to her belt and unbuckled it. "Your room?" he asked breathlessly.

"Too far away," she said, and he smiled. "Floor."

"You vacuum recently?"

She laughed, and allowed him to lower her onto her back on the rug. She stopped laughing the second his lips went to her throat, moaning instead as he sucked on her skin. "Elliot," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair and down his neck.

Elliot felt the cool paths her fingers had traced, and reveled again in the fact that he was with Olivia. Every time they made love, he could not believe it was finally happening, after years of wanting it to. He lowered his lips to her collarbone, reaching simultaneously to continue removing her pants. When he touched her hips, however, he realized that her jeans were already off. He stared up at her. "How the hell did you do that?"

"Magic," she shrugged, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned.

"You took away my chance to torture you by dragging this out."

"Pity."

Elliot pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Reaching one hand behind her back, he unhooked her bra and flung it somewhere, immediately bringing his lips back to her clavicle as he ran his hands down her body, over her breasts, her sides, her stomach, and her legs.

"Elliot," she said again as his thumbs played along the insides of her thighs, her eyes closing of their own accord. Somehow she still managed to find the buttons of his shirt and undo them all, pushing it off of his shoulders and dropping it to the ground.

"I thought you liked that shirt."

"I like you better," she said, pulling him back up to her so she could kiss his lips again while her hands fumbled with his belt and zipper. She pushed his pants down his hips with her hands as far as she could reach, and then moved them the rest of the way with her feet.

"God, Liv," Elliot murmured, sucking on her bottom lip and eliciting a groan from the woman beneath him. He reached between them and stroked her with his thumb. She writhed, breathing hard, all coherent thoughts gone from her head.

"Elliot…Elliot…please…."

He inserted two fingers into her and she bucked against his hand as he drew them in and out.

"God, Elliot…faster…."

He thrust faster and harder and then, without giving her a chance to recover, removed his fingers and immediately pushed himself into her, swallowing her cry.

"I love you, Olivia," he gasped as he pounded into her, feeling her legs wrap around his back to bring him even deeper. He almost lost it right then but forced himself to hang on, prolonging the torturous pleasure.

"I'm close, El," she moaned into his shoulder, burying her face in his neck and letting out a soft whimper every time he pushed into her.

"Let go, Liv," he whispered, lacing a hand into her hair. "I've got you." He reached down and rubbed her again, slamming into her.

"Oh God…oh God…Elliot!" she finally screamed, her body shaking violently.

Elliot felt her spasm and it sent him over the edge. "Oliva," he moaned deeply, wrapping his arms around her as they came together.

She was still trembling when he rolled them onto their sides, facing each other. He pushed a lock of sweaty hair behind her ear.

"Wow," she said, smiling at him.

"Thank you, thank you," he joked, nodding his head.

"You're arrogant."

"You're amazing." He took her hand and kissed it, looking deeply into her eyes. "I'll always be right here, Liv."

"I know."


	8. Chapter 8

Casey begged the doctors to release her as soon as possible, and they agreed. She was allowed to leave the next morning, but they ordered her to take it easy and not do anything strenuous that could injure her ribs.

"Too bad, John," she said to him as he helped her into his car. "Remember what we were supposed to do last night?"

He smirked at her, his hand running up her thigh. "No…what were we going to do again?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?"

He paused, looking thoughtful. "That could be interesting."

She laughed but stopped quickly and glanced over at him. "So how did it go yesterday?"

John looked at her briefly. "I need to talk to you about that, actually. He refused to talk since you weren't there."

"Oh. Well…I guess I can talk to him."

John tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Actually, Casey…I was hoping you'd just talk to me first. I don't want you talking to him." He stared through the windshield, waiting on tenterhooks for her response.

"I need to."

"Damn it, Casey, why are you so forgiving? He _raped_ you! Why the hell do you want to see him?"

She shifted so his hand slid off of her leg. "I wouldn't expect you to understand," she said lightly, her usual method of blowing him off and concealing her emotions.

John rolled his eyes, feeling anger rising within him once again. "Why don't you try explaining it to me before you draw any conclusions?"

"You really want to hear about someone raping me?"

"It_ is _my job, remember?" he shot back, his ears ringing at the horrible words that had just come out of Casey's mouth. He did not want to hear a sentence about Casey and rape ever again.

Her voice softened. "This is a little different, don't you think?"

John did not reply, but continued on his way to her apartment. When they got there, he helped her out of the car and up the stairs where he followed her in without being asked. "Sit down," he said, going into the kitchen to make her some coffee.

"Your coffee sucks!" she shouted at him.

"You suck!" he called back, smiling at the expression he knew she must have.

"Good one, Munch!"

He chuckled and, when the coffee was ready, or at least passable, he brought her a mug.

"You and that devastating wit," she said idly, sipping the coffee and making a face. "Wow. Don't you think I've been through enough over the past day?"

"You're just jealous." He attempted to keep up with the cheery tone but failed. She _had _been through too much. He tried to catch her eye, but she was staring into her mug. "Tell me, Casey."

"There's no use getting you all upset over something you can't change."

"We have to know why he did it to you before we can rule out the possibility of other cases. You know that."

Casey set her mug down on the coffee table to her left. "I promise I'm the only one."

"Casey, you can't be sure of that. Maybe you were the first, but that doesn't mean he didn't do it again after you left." He hated the way he was acting, pushing her so hard. He was painfully aware of how harsh he might sound to her, even though he did not mean to upset her any more, but he had to do his job…even when she was the victim.

He watched her as she stared out the window at the snow that was still falling, shaking her head and chewing on her lower lip.

"Case…."

"Fine," she snapped, turning to him and looking him directly in the eyes. "About two months after he was diagnosed, I couldn't take it anymore. It was like he was crazy, and I couldn't handle it. He showed up at my apartment, more out of control than I'd seen him before. He was raving about something, and I was trying to tell him that I was leaving like I said I would if he didn't start getting medicated. He threw me into the wall a couple times and then slammed me onto the kitchen table and raped me at knifepoint. That's what these scars are from," she finished, lifting her chin slightly and showing John several faint white lines on her neck.

John sat frozen on the couch. He could not believe she had just told him that story with almost no emotion. It had taken less than thirty seconds. She was not even breathing hard. Her tone had been nothing more than mildly annoyed.

"Happy?" Casey asked, breaking into John's thoughts.

He stared at her. "What is this hold that he has over you?"

Casey looked at him like he had slapped her. "It's called loving someone," she said icily, her eyes boring into his.

"It's called letting a man control you." He tried to figure out if Casey had been speaking in the present tense or not, but he shook his head, getting back to the point. "So that proves nothing, anyway. He could have done the same thing to other women."

"No, he didn't."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Because, John," she replied frostily, "when he had his orgasm, he said that he would never touch another woman because I was his and he was mine. He made me promise that I would never have sex with another man."

John struggled to find his voice. "And…did you promise?"

"Anything to get his penis out of me and the knife away from my neck."

John turned his eyes to the ceiling, taking deep, slow breaths. He felt like he was having a heart attack. Again. It was becoming a common occurrence for him. In all his years of working sex crimes, he had never heard someone relay an incident with such a lack of a reaction. There were various stages of hysteria, and some people did nothing more than tear up, but Casey did _nothing_…nothing but snap at John. He knew her well enough to know that was her way of dealing with it. She was horrible at expressing emotions, at making herself vulnerable. Even around him.

He did not know what to do. He loathed the idea of causing her pain by impressing on her the seriousness of the situation, but he thought it would be better for her. Holding it all in was never a good choice.

"Come here," he said gently, leaning back and holding his arms out to her. She scooted over and settled herself between his legs, her cheek on his chest. He absently twirled her hair with the fingers of his left hand, his other hand resting on her back. He held her for twenty minutes, not rushing her, before he felt a damp spot on his shirt.

"Casey?" he whispered, running his fingers up her back.

"I'm so sorry, John," she mumbled, finally giving in. John held her tightly as she trembled against him.


	9. Chapter 9

Casey had fallen asleep again. It was an effect of the concussion; she would be tired for days.

She had cried for about fifteen minutes before going to sleep. John did not let go of her the whole time she was sobbing or for a long time after. He could not bear to let her go.

He finally decided he should call Cragen, however, and tell him what he had learned about Charlie. He was fairly convinced that Casey was indeed the only victim, but he knew she was determined to confront her erstwhile fiancé. She would find out for sure. As much as he wanted to prevent her, he knew he would not do it.

He shifted carefully to the side, removing himself from under Casey and settling her back on the couch. He gazed at her face for a moment, taking in the dark circles under her eyes. He just wanted it all to be over. He wished none of it had happened. It was too much.

He went into Casey's room and shut the door behind him. Going to the window and resting his forehead against the cold glass, he called the stationhouse.

"Cragen."

"Cap, it's John."

He heard the captain shift in his chair. "How'd it go?" he asked, his tone a not entirely successful attempt at being businesslike.

"She was the only one."

There was a pause. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I guess something _could_ have changed, but he told her…he said she'd be the only one." He turned around, his back to the wall, taking in the paintings on Casey's walls, the flowers on her bedside table, her rows and rows of books. He could not fathom how being in love with someone, especially someone as wonderful as Casey, could lead to rape. "She still wants to talk to him."

"He's in the lockup without bail. Another ADA worked it for us."

"Good."

"How are you doing, John?"

He scoffed. "Just great. I'm thrilled with recent events."

"John. You know what I mean. I'm here if you need to talk."

"Yeah. Thanks." He hung up and was going back to Casey when a voice came over the intercom. "Delivery, Ms. Novak."

John went quietly to the front door so as not to wake Casey, and he opened the door to find a silver urn with steam coming off of it. He looked at it in confusion, but then saw a small white note attached.

_Your coffee sucks._

_-Liv_

A grin spread across his face and he rolled his eyes. He picked it up and carried it into the kitchen, pouring two fresh cups. He tried some and realized that his coffee did indeed suck.

John knew he needed to go back to work. He had a load of papers to fill out and file, plus he had to testify in a case, one that was not being postponed until Casey was better. It would be strange without her there. He could not remember the last time he'd been in court without either Casey or Alex. It had been a long time.

"Hi."

He turned to find Casey standing in the doorway. He smiled at her. As an ADA, she was so often in a suit and high heels, but John loved seeing her in just jeans and a sweatshirt, with bare feet, like then. "Hi."

She looked around him at the mugs. "You're kidding, right? You couldn't possibly put me through that again? Honestly, only John Munch could wreck _instant_ coffee."

"Olivia brought it."

"Well…God is good." She stepped around John and took her mug, drinking deeply. "You know what, John?"

"What?"

She drank again. "Your coffee really…really…_really_ sucks."

"Don't make me hurt you," he said without thinking. He noticed a slight falter in Casey's smile, and he closed his eyes. "Oh God, Case…I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't worry. Seriously. You don't have to watch everything you say around me now that you know. It's not like you saying it makes me scared of you or anything."

That was what he was afraid of- her fearing him. "I don't mean to make light of it."

"You might as well. Takes the edge off." He sighed, staring at the floor until he felt her fingers under his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Hey," she said softly. "It's fine. I'm fine."

John smiled and seized the attempt to make the exchange carefree once again. "Damn fine."

She wrapped her arms around his back, kissing his chest. "That's the John I love…or at least tolerate."

"You getting sick of me?"

"Frankly, yes."

He kissed the top of her head. "You love me."

"Damn right I do." She sighed. "I'm going to call Branch. I'm bored. I want to prosecute that bastard Rogers and put him away. None of my injuries affect my ability to argue."

"I don't think a lack of vocal chords would hinder your ability to argue."

"Nope."

"Take it easy. All in good time. You'll be back kicking ass before you know it." He tilted her face to his and kissed her lovingly. "I'll come stay with you tonight. Ok?"

"Of course." She walked him to the door. "Have a good day at work, dear," she joked, her eyes twinkling.

"Rest," he said sternly, and he did not leave until he saw that she was comfortably on the couch, the coffee from Olivia in her hand and his toxic coffee, relatively untouched, on the table.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Short chap, sorry! I will update again tomorrow!

* * *

True to her threat, Casey called Arthur Branch and used her seldom-failing arguing tactics or, as she sometimes referred to them, her uncanny ability to be a pain in the ass, to convince him to let her take the Rogers case the following day.

"The second you feel lightheaded or anything, you stop," he commanded her sternly.

"Right."

"You might get sympathy support from the jury. Maybe we should give you new 'injuries' for every case."

"I'm sure that wouldn't arouse any suspicion." There was a silence, so Casey started to say goodbye before Branch cut her off.

"I'm glad you're alright, Casey."

"Thank you," she said in mild surprise. She knew Branch was fond of her, but such an open display of sentiment was unexpected.

She hung up and immediately called John to tell him. He picked up on the third ring.

"I _told_ you not to call me here, what if Casey dumps my phone? Oh, Casey…it's you."

She grinned. "I was actually trying to find Fin. Will you ask him if we're still on for tonight? And remind him to bring his handcuffs. The ones I bought were too flimsy, they broke after only a couple-"

"_Anyway_," John interrupted, but Casey could tell he was amused, "how's it going?"

"Great. I'm going to kill that bastard tomorrow."

"You'll have to be more specific. With our jobs, there are hundreds of bastards, and lots of merits for killing them."

"Rogers. Branch is giving it back to me."

"I won't even bother telling you that you are moving too fast."

"Good." She paused, twirling the phone's cord around her finger. "Also, I want to talk to Charlie tomorrow."

"Casey," he protested, "that's too much stress for one day. I don't think that's a good idea."

"Probably not, but when has that ever stopped me?"

He sighed, smiling in spite of himself. "You're so stubborn." His voice grew more serious. "Can I watch through the two-way?"

"I don't think _that's _a good idea," she said, echoing him. "It will just make you mad, and there's nothing you can do about it anyway."

"I want to protect you."

Casey smiled, wishing she could hug him that instant. "I know you do." She really did not want him to be listening, for lots of reasons…including that fact that it would be awkward to talk to the man she used to love in front of the man she currently loved. On the other hand, she did not want to make John think she did not trust him. "Fine. But will you bring one of those stress balls or something?"

"Sure," he replied, chuckling.

Casey sighed softly, and then she overheard Fin say, "John, we gotta go."

"We have a case," John said to her. "I have to go. See you tonight."

"Ok."

"I love you."

"You too." Casey hung up and leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, apprehensive about the next day.


	11. Chapter 11

Casey awoke the next morning, her stomach in knots. She would be facing Charlie in a couple of hours. She was not afraid in the same way John was…she knew he was expecting Charlie to attack her again, even though that was not a possibility, as he would be handcuffed…but she was still scared. Scared that it would be too much to look at the man she had planned on spending the rest of her life with. She was also worried about John's reaction.

She rose and started getting dressed quietly so as not to wake John yet. Standing in front of her mirror, she removed her camisole and looked at the bruise on her stomach. She formed her hand into a fist and tried to match it to the print, reliving the shock she had felt upon seeing him. She also could not help thinking about the last time Charlie had hurt her. She had done the same thing a few days after, taking in all of the injuries she had done her best to ignore up until then. It had been bad the last time…worse. Being thrown against the walls and table had knocked her spine out of alignment in addition to giving her huge bruises. She had gotten a concussion, stitches in her neck, endured the pain between her legs…all of that on top of the most painful part of all, the knowledge that her fiancé was so far gone that he would attack her and leave her broken and bleeding on the floor.

Casey was still staring into the mirror when she heard movement behind her. Her eyes shot to the left so she could see John, sitting up in her bed, watching her in concern. She immediately averted her eyes and set about finding a shirt and jacket, doing her best to ignore John. She really did not want him to ask her what she was thinking, or how she was doing. Her answer was too complicated to voice.

She gasped slightly in pain as she pulled her shirt over her head, closing her eyes in frustration and shame when she felt John pulling it the rest of the way down her body.

His hand brushed her cheek and she opened her eyes to find him standing behind her, staring into her eyes via the mirror. "I love you," he said softly, kissing her ear. He ran his hands gently down her sides until she caught them in her own, wrapping his arms around her despite the pain the pressure caused.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Go heat up some of the coffee Olivia sent. I'll make the bed."

"Thanks," she said again, going into the kitchen. She moved about in a haze, not even noticing when John came in a minute later. She was not aware that her hands kept straying to the stitches on her temple, to the scars on her neck, her bruised abdomen, her ribs. John watched her, mired in deep anxiety, not knowing what to do about any of it. It broke his heart to see her so shaky and nervous…Casey, who was usually as strong and cold as ice.

She absently set a mug of coffee and some toast in front of John, and sat stiffly next to him. She did not eat anything.

John sighed. He hoped that, once she faced Charlie and got some answers, she would be able to calm down. He did not see a reason she would not recover her old fire…indeed, he had seen it many times since Charlie's most recent attack…but he was still apprehensive. He was glad, however, that she would get the meeting with Charlie over with before going to court. She would not be able to concentrate on anything else until she confronted him.

She needed to eat. "Casey," he began, but she cut him off by grabbing a piece of his toast, taking a bite, and putting it back.

"Happy?" she asked him for the second time in two days, and with the same accusatory tone. He did not let it bother him…or at least, he did not take it personally. It just worried him all the more to see that she was feeling so emotional and unstable that she was lashing out at him.

"Let's go," he said, not responding to her question. He put the dishes in her sink and went to the door, holding it open for her.

As she passed him, her hand found his. "John, I'm-"

"Don't worry about it." He did not want her to say she was sorry. All he wanted was for her to be alright.

The drive to the precinct was silent. Charlie was not considered a high security prisoner as his sole target was Casey, so he was transported to the one-six. He would be handcuffed and uniforms would be standing by to restrain him, if the need arose. John prayed that it would not.

Upon entering the bullpen, John smiled to see the reactions of all the other detectives. They all said how happy they were to see Casey, and she and Olivia immediately started talking about something. Elliot and Fin drifted over to John to inquire about her, and he appreciated again what it was to have a family.


	12. Chapter 12

Casey took a deep breath and went into the interrogation room. She had asked Olivia to tell Elliot and Fin to keep an eye on John and stop him from breaking the door down to attack Charlie.

Being in the room with the two-way had never made Casey nervous before. She never cared that she was being watched by people she could not see. She was in control. At this point, she did not know if anyone was in control, but she certainly was not. To make matters worse, she would have the image of John's face in her mind the whole time, seeing him pacing on the other side of the glass, his features turning to stone as they always did when he was angry.

Charlie was sitting at the table, his hands manacled to his chair. Casey's breath caught in her chest as she looked at him, barely noticing the sound of the door shutting behind her, cutting her off from the people who loved her and isolating her with a man who used to.

He looked pretty much the same as he did when she left, except he was much more coherent. She could see it in his eyes. She gathered that he must finally be on medication for his schizophrenia, but she had no idea why he was still so violent.

Pulling out her chair and sitting down, she stared into his eyes. "So," she said after a few minutes of silent observing, "why did you come find me?"

"Because you need to know what you did to me."

"What _I _did to _you_?"

He glared at her. "Yes, Casey. You left me at my time of greatest need, you abandoned me to the abyss of my illness, I was homeless, and then I saw an article about you, saying you won a case. Your life sure turned out great, didn't it?"

Casey stiffened. "I loved you. I stayed by your side, that is when I had any idea where your side was, and I told you to take medication. I warned you that I would leave if you didn't, but you ignored me. You abandoned _me_."

"It's so obvious to me now that you made the right career choice. You know how to lie, to manipulate to garner sympathy. But it won't work with me. I know your tricks, you bitch." His eyes bored into her, flicking occasionally to the stitches on her temple. She thought she could detect a small smile on his face at the damage he had caused. "You left me. I never heard from you again after you left."

Casey rolled her eyes. "I'm terribly sorry that I ran from you after you raped me."

"We had sex. I would never rape someone. Don't turn it into what it's not just because you work for the sex crimes unit and know the power behind a word like 'rape'."

"I don't recall agreeing to let you put a knife to my throat or…." For the first time since she had started talking to him, she thought about John…and that she had not told him the whole truth about the attack. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes. "Or into me." She could almost feel John's rage radiating into the room. She took a deep breath before opening her eyes again to find Charlie staring at her.

"You know why I didn't take the meds. I wouldn't have been myself."

"Yeah, well I think I would have preferred you on the drugs to the paranoid, violent man you became. But at least you were being real, right?"

"Don't talk that way to me."

She laughed. "I don't believe you have any basis to tell me how I may or may not talk to you after you came here and beat me up."

"Did you keep your promise to me?"

"No."

"So you deserve everything I give you. You're a lying whore." He leaned forward. "It's not that dinosaur, is it? I thought I detected something when he was yelling at me the other day."

Casey crossed her arms across her chest. "You're a bigger idiot that I took you for if you actually thought I would keep a promise that I only made to get you the hell off of me."

"You enjoyed yourself."

"I don't remember telling you that I was a sadomasochist…but I guess I must have, huh?"

He stared at her, breathing hard. "You whore. You fucking whore."

She could see him straining at the manacles. She got to her feet. "You're not who you used to be. I'm sorry that you were diagnosed with schizophrenia. I'm sorry that you ended up homeless, even though it was your fault for being so stubborn. I'm sorry that you've turned out this way…into this crazy, hateful shell of what you used to be…but I'm not sorry for leaving. You raped me, whether you'll admit it or not. I stuck by you until I was too miserable to function, having no idea where you were only to have you come home raving about how I was cheating on you. I've been beating myself up about leaving for years, about not saving you, even though I know I made the right choice. I don't know that I'll stop feeling guilty, but I should." She went to the door, desperately trying to hold in her tears until he could no longer see her. "Don't say anything more to me. I don't want the knowledge of what you are now to completely eclipse my memories of loving you."

With one final, fearful look into his eyes that were burning with hate, she opened the door and shut it quickly behind her, slumping limply against it. She shut her eyes tightly against the pain, but despite her efforts at maintaining control, she felt hot tears rolling down her face as she trembled so violently that she could hardly stand.

She had no idea who it was that led her to a desk and made her sit down until she heard Elliot's voice saying, "I've got you, Casey. It's ok."

She was vaguely aware of several uniforms leading Charlie out of the precinct and into the awaiting police car, but she did not watch. She would not have been able to, even if she had wanted to, since black spots kept obscuring her vision. Her ribs throbbed with every shuddering breath she took.

She forced herself to regain her composure. It was over, there was nothing more she could do about it. Charlie was gone, replaced by a pugnacious maniac who was now going to prison. Being upset would not change a thing. Casey was not naïve enough to think she would stop being upset about it all any time soon, or ever, but she needed to move on for the moment. She had a case to argue.

She untangled her fingers from her hair and straightened up, taking a deep breath and ignoring the shooting pain in her ribs. She looked up to find Elliot sitting across from her in his chair, and she realized that she was in Olivia's.

"You ok?" he asked gently, offering her one of his small smiles. Casey could not help but smile back, remembering a time that Olivia had told her how much she loved that smile of his.

"I'm fine. Sorry you had to help me over here."

"Anytime."

She sighed. One of her main concerns was the squad treating her differently now that they knew. They had seen her lose control and cry, they heard the details of her rape. She did not want to be another victim to them. She had to still be Casey.

"Hey."

She looked up at Elliot.

"Nothing's changed."

More relieved than she had been for a long time, she laughed. "Spy," she accused him. How did he know exactly what worry was plaguing her?

"Detective," he corrected, with a facetiously superior smile.

She rolled her eyes. "Um…where's John?" She found it ominous that he was not there. That meant he had not been able to handle it, and was currently fuming somewhere.

"With Olivia. He punched the wall and…well, we all know Liv has experience treating busted up hands," he finished, alluding to himself. He looked at her encouragingly. "He'll be fine."

Casey rose to her feet. "I'd better go. I have to be in court."

"Good luck. Want me to tell him anything for you?"

Casey smirked. "Why don't you give him a big kiss from me?"

Elliot cracked up, shaking his head. "Thank God, I've been waiting for an excuse to do that for so long."

"I suspected as much." She walked toward the door, turning back for a second when she reached it. "Elliot? Thanks. Tell Liv, Fin, and Don too."

"Sure thing, Casey."


	13. Chapter 13

A few minutes after Casey left to go to court, Olivia came back to her chair and sat down heavily.

"How's he doing?" Elliot asked.

She shrugged. "About as well as any of you crazy guys are after losing it." She randomly picked up a pen from her desk and started tapping it against the palm of her other hand. She looked up at Elliot a few times, opening her mouth to speak, only to shake her head and drop her gaze again.

"Spit it out," Elliot said with obvious concern after the third or fourth time.

Olivia sighed. "It's just…would you feel differently about me if I had been raped?"

Elliot stared at her. "Please tell me we're speaking hypothetically."

She gave a small smile. "Yes."

Elliot's heartbeat slowed down again. "Good. You almost gave me a heart attack." She did not laugh, and he knew the question had really been weighing on her mind. He reached for her hand across their desks. "Nothing would change. I love you."

"Casey just told me that John is being really careful about how he acts around her. Checking things he says and stuff like that. She sounded so sad, like this is the reason she never told anyone. She didn't want people walking on eggshells around her. Thinking of her as just another vic."

"That's how it is with anything, though. After Kathy and I split, no one would say the word 'divorce' within ten miles of me. But they got over it."

"I guess so. I just don't want you to change how you act around me. Ever. No matter what."

Elliot ran his fingers up and down the underside of her wrist. "Deal," he said softly.

At that moment, John walked into the bullpen. Neither Elliot nor Olivia said anything to him about the bandage around his knuckles, or anything else that had happened that morning. It would be better if he talked when he wanted to.

"He's going to get three years, tops, and he'll be released into psychiatric care after one with good behavior," John said abruptly. "I just talked to an ADA about it."

Olivia looked at him in alarm. "That's not much for the assault of an ADA."

"I know. But they'll go with the mental defect defense. Which is technically true." He leaned forward, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. "It's not enough," he said softly. "What if he goes after her again? What's to stop him?"

"We'll get her a restraining order," Elliot said.

"Not that those give pause to anyone with determination," John replied without wasting a second, and they all knew it was true.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, all staring in different directions but all thinking the same things.

"She's in court now?" John asked finally.

Elliot nodded. "She told me to kiss you for her. But if, for some reason, I don't…let's keep it between us."

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "May I respectfully request that you don't?"

John chuckled. "I second that." He got to his feet. "Fin and I are going to canvass the apartment building of the Jones girl."

"Take it easy."

"Right." He left, leaving Elliot and Olivia alone in the bullpen again.

"So," Olivia said, smirking, "making out with Munch behind my back again?"

Elliot rolled his chair around the Olivia's side of their conjoined desks. "No. I only make out with people I love." He tangled his fingers in her hair and stared into her eyes, giving her one of his small, half-smiles.

"Like me?" she said quietly, running her fingers along the side of his face.

"Like you."


	14. Chapter 14

Casey paced in the lobby of the courthouse, muttering her opening statement to herself. She could not remember being more nervous for a case, even though the one she was about to try would be one of her easiest in quite some time. There was just so much hinging on it. It went beyond just getting justice for the victim; somehow, Casey felt that she had to prove herself. She hated that she was letting Charlie's words get to her, but they were. She felt guilty about the way he turned out even though she tried to tell herself it was not her fault.

Taking a deep breath, Casey held her head high and stalked into the courtroom, shooting a condescending look at Rogers who responded by smirking at her, his eyes fixed on the stitches on her temple. She did her best to ignore him, and her best was impressive.

The trial took very little time, as Casey had expected. Rogers was indicted on the counts of rape and violating a protection order and was given the maximum sentence for his crimes. When her work was done, Casey gratefully sank into her chair, her head spinning. She had been staving off nausea and dizziness practically the entire time, not willing to show any weakness to Rogers, the opposing counsel, the judge, or the jury.

She grudgingly admitted that John had been right, and it probably was too early for her to have taken a case, but there was nothing she could do about that now. If she had aggravated any of her injuries, she would just have to deal with it.

She rose shakily to her feet, grimacing at the pain in her ribs, and turned to find John standing behind her, an 'I told you so' expression on his face.

"Don't say it," she said, gathering her papers together and forcing her features into a neutral expression that she hoped would not convey the pain she was in.

"I knew you were going too fast."

She glared at him, pausing in her organizing. "Did I _not_ just tell you not to say that?"

He regarded her seriously. "You told me not to say 'it'. I didn't. Ask the court stenographer."

Casey stared at him for a second, trying not to smile, and succeeding, for the most part. "You are such an idiot," she said finally, unable to stop herself from smiling. She ducked her head so he would not see.

She continued packing up, feeling his eyes on her but refusing to meet them. She glanced sideways at his bruised and bandaged knuckles. "Men are ridiculous."

"When we're in love, yeah."

She finally looked at him. "Why'd you come here?" she asked softly, allowing him to take her hand.

He smirked at her. "Seeing you in court turns me on."

She smiled back. "Hold that thought. I don't think I could handle it yet."

"I'm a lot to handle," he said suggestively.

"In that annoying little kid kind of way, damn right you are." She brushed her hair off her shoulder, surveying him magisterially. "Sorry to rain on your parade. And blow up all the floats."

His eyes widened. "How the hell do you know about _that_?"

"Olivia told me."

He nodded, looking satisfied. "Glad to know that my razor-sharp wit is legendary."

"Notorious." She snapped her bag shut and slung it over her shoulder. "Don't you have work to do, detective?"

"No cases. Slow day."

"Oh." She walked beside him out the doors and down the stairs. She could tell from his expression and the way he kept halfway reaching for her only to withdraw his hands that he was worried about her falling down the stairs in her weakened condition. "I'm not a damsel in distress, John," she snapped, not really mad.

"Ok," he conceded, but he did not change his behavior. Casey rolled her eyes.

She wrapped her coat more closely around her, smiling when John added his arm around her shoulders for warmth. "You're not slacking on any paperwork you owe me, are you?"

"Don't I get any benefits for being your knight in shining armor?"

Casey snickered.

"What?" John demanded.

"Funny image." She hailed a cab.

"What, you just assume I didn't drive?"

She stared at him, raising her eyebrows. "Munch, do you _ever_ drive?"

"You should talk. Have you ever _driven_?"

"What a pair we make." She slid in after him and sighed tiredly as John gave the driver her address. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he ran his fingers through her hair, occasionally kissing the top of her head.


	15. Chapter 15

When they reached Casey's apartment, John paid the driver and followed Casey to her door. As she unlocked it, he said, "So you missed Elliot kissing me."

Casey stopped, leaving her keys in the lock. "Are you serious?" she asked incredulously, staring at him.

"Do I look serious?" he deadpanned.

"Yes," Casey said, "but with you, that's not a real indication."

He looked at her for a few more seconds, leaving her hanging. Then he rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm not serious."

"Thank God." She turned back to the task at hand and pushed the door open, shutting it behind John. "Coffee?"

"Only if I don't have to make it."

"Please, I'm getting a court order to that effect." She went into the kitchen, thankful that John had seated himself in the living room and was giving her a minute to collect herself. She knew full well the topic of the conversation they were about to have. It was inevitable. There was no way they could get on with their lives, with their relationship, if they did not discuss it. But that did not mean Casey wanted to.

After she could get no calmer, she returned to John, a mug in each hand. She gave one to him and sat down against the arm of the couch, facing him. She swallowed hard. John opened his mouth to start, but Casey cut him off. "John…before we start this, I just want you to know that I love you more than anything, and if I yell at you-"

"I won't take it personally," he concluded, his eyes clouded with worry, but his gaze was nonetheless kind.

"Ok."

John sighed. "Casey…why didn't you tell me everything that he did to you?"

She knew what he was referring to, and she was sure it was that admission that had caused John to punch the wall. "Because I'm not as good at patching up fists as Olivia."

John shook his head. "Don't joke. Yell at me all you want, but don't joke about this."

Casey felt her resentment building. Sarcasm was her defense mechanism, as John well knew. It was his too, and so he knew just what he was asking of her in taking it away. She pushed the feelings away though. She was not going to punish John for worrying about her, for loving her. Not anymore. "I was afraid of what you'd do," she admitted softly, looking from his eyes down to his hands and back up again.

"You were…you're…afraid of me?"

She could hear his heart breaking, and she quickly amended her statement. "Not _of_ you. For you. I knew it would hurt you."

"Only because it hurts _you_."

"I know that. And I appreciate it. But I couldn't bring myself to make you look any more upset than you already did. And I figured, rape is rape. Who cares how he did it?"

John stared at her. "Everyone cares. He raped you himself and then with a knife, Casey! He could have killed you!"

"I know!" she snapped, a lot more harshly than she meant to. She paused, catching her breath and waiting for her heart to slow down. "I know," she finally said gently, "but it all comes down to the same thing. It was too long ago to do anything about, and I didn't want you to freak out."

"He didn't love you. No one hurts someone they love on purpose."

"He was sick, John."

John shook his head. "I don't care! I could be absolutely stark-raving mad and I wouldn't hurt you!"

"You say that now, but-"

"No!" He stared at her, breathing hard. "I wouldn't. Casey, tell me you know that I would never, ever hurt you."

She sighed deeply, looking into his eyes. She did not want to lie to him, but he needed to hear those words from her, even if she did not believe them. She knew that John as he was then would never hurt her, but she knew the same thing of Charlie before he got sick. The fact of the matter was you could never predict the future. Circumstances could change. "I know."

He visibly calmed down. After a few minutes of silence, he said, "Casey, I…."

She knew what he was thinking, what had been causing him so much pain since it all started a few days before. He had not brought it up because he did not want to appear selfish or weak. But if he was going to make her face up to the truth, she would do the same. "I love _you_, John."

He closed his eyes, desperate to hold back his emotion. She understood him so well. "You loved him. You were going to marry him," he said. She could hear the accusation in his tone. It was what she expected.

"I didn't, though."

"So what? You loved him enough that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. If nothing had changed-"

Casey cut him off. "If nothing ever changed, John, I'd still be with my very first boyfriend. We started dating at the beginning of high school, but things changed. I broke up with him, and we both moved on. That's how it goes."

"You wouldn't have moved on from Charlie if he hadn't gone crazy."

She let out a breath, desperate to make John understand. "You believe in true love, John. So do I. And it's what we have. You and me." She scooted over to him. "Everything happens for a reason. At the time, I was ready to spend my life with Charlie. But it didn't work out, because it wasn't meant to be. This," she said, taking his hand in hers, "is." She kissed his knuckles. "You're not going to get away from me."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Hey guys! Well, this is the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I love writing stories and it's always nice to hear your impressions. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always, I'd appreciate your feedback on the chapter or the story as a whole or whatever. Oh, and as promised, here is a JC lemon. It's more sweet than smutty, but I hope you like it anyway. Thanks!

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Life returned to business as usual at the sixteenth precinct. Every day brought with it new horrors but also new triumphs, and the detectives did their best to make the latter overshadow everything else.

However, after one particularly hard case, John wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of the stationhouse and be with Casey. A woman had been raped with a knife, and it was too painful for John to deal with. He had been close to losing it all day, and by the time the case was closed he was literally holding in a scream of frustration.

He took a cab to Casey's apartment, praying she would be there. Even if she was not, he supposed, being there would be better than sitting by himself in his own apartment. Even by himself, he felt far less alone at her place. He had only to look around her rooms to feel her, and it made him calmer.

The taxi could not get to her apartment fast enough. When it finally arrived, John thrust some bills through the window at the driver and ran up the stairs, unlocking the door without knocking. He practically lived there anyway, but because of the nature of the case, he had not been home, to his or hers, in days. All the detectives had been working frantically to catch the perp, getting only a couple of thirty minute shifts of sleep in the crib. John was never able to take advantage of the respites, so he had been awake for hours and hours.

Upon opening the door, his heart uplifted when he heard Casey singing softly as she often did when she was alone in her house or office. He immediately felt his blood pressure dropping to a healthy level again after all the stress he had been dealing with.

"Hi, Casey!" He did not want to startle her by going to her in the kitchen unannounced.

"Hi!" she called back. John was disappointed that she stopped singing. He thought it was an adorable habit.

He tiredly went into the kitchen and stopped in amazement. The table was set and there was a bowl of spaghetti, a salad, and garlic bread. "What's this?" he asked incredulously, looking over at Casey. She was uncorking a bottle of wine.

She shrugged, coming over to him and kissing him softly before pouring some wine into two glasses. "I haven't seen you in a long time, and I thought you must be tired."

"How'd you even know I'd come?"

"Clairvoyance. That and Fin called me."

John smiled at her, overwhelmed by it all. He had missed her so much, though it had only been a few days. "Don't get me started on the apparent conspiracy between you and Fin."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, heaven forbid. Sit down, and give your conspiracy radar a rest."

He smirked, but sat down gratefully nonetheless. He served Casey and then himself, and they fell into companionable silence.

John's mind, however, could not adequately push the terrible case to its back. He found himself staring at Casey, his food forgotten and his heart breaking again. He wondered if he would ever be the same. He was still able to do his job, but he could not deny that something had drastically changed since he found out that Casey had been raped. It was all much more personal, and much harder to handle. He sighed heavily, unaware that Casey had noticed his demeanor and was regarding him with concern.

"Tough case?" she finally said, breaking him out of his thoughts. Of course she knew it had been physically trying, since he had not been able to rest in so long, but that was not what she meant.

"Yeah," he said after a minute, digging into his food again to try and ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest.

"Olivia told me," she said softly, and John's eyes snapped to her face.

"Does everyone at the one-six call you to give you updates on me?" he asked angrily.

Casey did not flinch. They were too much alike to be bothered by the other's sudden mood shifts. It came with the territory of holding emotions in. They were bound to come out at some point. "Just Fin and Liv."

John opened his mouth to bite back, but Casey cut him off mid-breath.

"Don't pretend that she hasn't called you to warn you about how I'm taking a case or something. They know us, John. They know we don't open up."

John stabbed at a meatball, but he knew she was right. "Ok," he said. He looked at her. "It was a bad case. The worst in a while."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged, not wanting to think about it any more. Casey took the hint and fell silent again too. After a few minutes, though, she looked at him with a sad smile. "I missed you."

"You too."

His tone conveyed more than any of his words had, and Casey finally understood what Olivia had not told her, and what John had not explicitly told her. She knew what had happened to the victim. Olivia had just said John was taking it hard, but that happened for lots of reasons in lots of different scenarios. Now she knew.

"John," she said softly, knowing the reaction her words would elicit but going on anyway, "if being with me makes the job too hard for you-"

"No," he cut in before she finished. "Don't even say that."

"You don't need anymore to think about during these cases. You have to help the victim, and if comparing her to me makes it harder on you…well, it's my fault. And I don't want to add to the pain of this job."

John shook his head vehemently, dropping his fork and grabbing her hand. "No. This case was hard, and it was harder because I kept thinking of you going through it. But the only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that I come home to you." He gazed deep into her eyes, marveling at how beautiful she was. "I need you."

She smiled, squeezing his hand. "Good. I need you too." She raised an eyebrow suggestively, holding back a smile. "Want to take care of that?"

"I don't want to hurt you," he said seriously. He was still concerned about her health even though she had been steadily improving. The scar on her temple was still red, but it was getting lighter. The bruises had been gone for a long time, and her ribs had not been giving her much trouble.

"And I don't want to hurt _you_," she said, "but I might have to if you don't get over here and kiss me."

He surveyed her over his glasses. "Is that a threat, Counselor?"

"Take it how you want."

He rose and went over to her. Before he had the chance to say another word, she pulled him down to her by gently tugging on his tie. Their lips met and John felt the tension and fear slip from his mind, from his muscles and bones.

Casey slowly stood up. In her high heels she was as tall as him, but she stepped out of them and John had to bend slightly to keep in contact with her. He ran his fingers through her long hair.

"I love you so much, Case," he murmured against her lips.

"You too," she replied softly, wrapping her arms around his back and drawing her body to his. She moaned softly, driving John crazy. He undid the three buttons on Casey's jacket and dropped it to the floor beside her. They left it behind as John directed Casey backward into her bedroom, their mouths never separating except when they could no longer breathe.

Casey's fingers worked to take off John's tie and unbutton his shirt, tossing both items aside as he crawled on top of her and pulled her camisole over her head on the way. Then he unhooked her bra with his right hand while his left worked on the zipper on the side of her skirt. Soon Casey was completely exposed to him.

It was a mark of how in love they were that she no longer shied away from his gaze, from his touch. He remembered their first time together. She had been nervous, almost scared. At the time, John had just assumed it was because it was so difficult for Casey to make herself vulnerable, and it was indeed partly that, but he learned the whole truth later. As horrifying as it was, it made him appreciate their time together even more. She trusted him above all others.

"John," she whispered, pushing his pants and boxers down his legs in one motion. He kicked them to the floor, pressing his lips to her throat. He could not help but kiss each of the faint white scars there, trying to take away some of the pain Charlie had caused her.

Her breath became ragged as his hands ran over her breasts and stomach, and it was, to him, the most beautiful sound. He loved hearing her breathe.

Her arms found their way around his neck and she raked her fingers through his hair, sighing softly. They were taking it slowly, savoring every moment, every second.

When John reached between them to stroke her, however, she could not stop herself from bucking against his hand. He thrust a finger into her, and then two, bringing his lips back to hers to steal the sharp gasps issuing forth from her mouth. Her hands ran haphazardly over his back as she struggled to keep herself under control.

"Let go, Casey," John whispered, feeling her holding back.

"Not…without you," she said, her eyes closed tightly.

"You've got me," he replied, sliding into her and feeling her moan vibrate against his shoulder. "Open your eyes."

She obeyed. Their eyes met and held each other as John moved over Casey, both of them breathing hard. "John!" Casey breathed as she neared the edge, her hands balling into fists as they rested on his upper back.

He thrust hard three more times and felt her tighten around him. It was enough to make him lose control as well, and he moaned her name as she sighed his, their tongues stroking one another.

John rolled off of Casey, lying beside her but not allowing them to become disconnected. He held her trembling frame to his bare chest, feeling her breath against his skin and kissing her soft hair. "Are you ok?" he asked once he regained his composure enough to form a coherent sentence.

He felt her lips on his sternum. "I'm fine." She looked up at him, her green eyes full of love and faith. "I love you."

He held her tightly, closing his eyes against the glorious pain of loving her so much. "I love you too."

The memories of what had happened to her would always haunt him, but every time his skin brushed Casey's, a piece of the horror dropped away, forgotten forever.


End file.
